


I’ll make War for you

by Miss_Shiva_Adler



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Characters, Breaking Out Of Prison, Competent Magnus Bane, Dark fic, Downworlders wage war against the Clave, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Malec Secret Santa 2020, Murder, Prince of Hell Magnus Bane, asexual Malec, dark magnus, mention of blood and torture, mention of kink, out of shot character deaths cos they are evil and not named, the Inquisitor is a major ass, whump Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Shiva_Adler/pseuds/Miss_Shiva_Adler
Summary: When Alec is captured for questioning during a Downworlder versus the Clave war, Magnus decides to break Alec out of the Guard himself.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78
Collections: The Malec Secret Santa - Edition 2020





	I’ll make War for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MmalecC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MmalecC/gifts).



> Happy holidays, I had already started writing the fic before we could find each other to get answers to questions, but I steered this fic in ways that it would still fit a lot of your preffered tropes. I hope you like it and thank you for inspiring me to write this fic. <3

The smell of blood is rancid. It coats the palate of his mouth and tongue and it goes down his throat. Most of it is already dried on his upper lip but it doesn’t mean the bleeding has stopped. Shadowhunters were meant to withstand torture, poisoning, cuts and bruises. But no training prepared you to withstand the horrors your own people could inflict upon your body. 

Because society dictated no secrets were to be held, once you were starting to have secrets, you would become fallen. The more you held on, the more you were a traitor to the state and its rules of control, supremacy and leadership. 

Alec holds secrets, more than one, and all were sealed away in his mind. A bastion of discipline and conviction. A soldier of purpose and strength. He stands fearless. His body aches, his breathing tears away through the silence of the dungeon. The walls are pristine white where the light never dims. Showing off how grotesque the masquerade of Nephilims ‘spotless’ ideals could be. 

_The blood on the walls could never be washed away no matter how hard they scrubbed._

He suppresses his hiccups of panic as he sees the menacing stele hovers over the agony rune on his solar plexus. He has to calm down, he has to breathe, he has to take a hold of himself. There is a silent prayer on his lips for them to stop. But his begging always makes the matter worse. 

“Give me names, Lightwood.” The inquisitor, a nameless face, looks at him. Their fingers tap a regular rhythm on their arm. Alec has been down here long enough to know what comes next.

“Never,” it takes effort but he’s strong enough to muster the strength. He spits the blood of his broken nose on the floor. 

Agony makes his whole body jerk and the feeling of invisible needles wiggles its way under his skin. His vision whites out, a groan, a scream of anger passes his lips. They were going to have hell to pay, every single last one of them. 

* * *

Magnus breathes in. It took him too long to find the weak spot in the wall. The fighting is happening up front. Warlocks, werewolves and Seelies fighting shadowhunters one by one. Arrogant Nephilims, they never suspect to be attacked from the back, thinking their defenses are strong enough. 

He draws the sigil on the wall with his left hand, keeping his other one free in case shadowhunters do decide to check up on the wards on this side of the mountain. Angelic magic is powerful, but the blood of a prince of hell is stronger. He takes a step back, waiting for Meliorn to give him affirmation of position. He plays with the cork on the potion’s vial to keep his focus. 

It doesn’t take long before there is a magical vibration in his communicator. He concentrates his power to tune into the frequency. 

“The way is clear, your majesty.” Meliorn’s voice sounds strong and pleased. Which meant the assault on the southern gate had gone marvelously. 

“Very well, keep the distraction going, I will locate Alexander’s cell by myself, have the others concentrate on liberating the other prisoners.” Things were going according to plan.

“Yes, sir.” There is the chime of the spell on the communicator dimming. 

He breathes in. 

He throws the uncorked vial to the sigil. The wall pulsates before it thickens. The explosion goes all the way through. The air gushes out. It’s fresh and cold. For the very first time in weeks Magnus feels he can breathe again. The mountain rumbles and the ground shakes. Once the High warlock is certain it wouldn’t collapse on itself. Shadowhunters weren’t stupid. They wouldn’t venture blindly in a freshly created passage way. He moves his hand as he invokes the fires that will help him through the tunnel.. 

There was a time where he would have chosen a more peaceful solution. But the time for compromised had died out when Aldertree had come in power. Destroyed everything what the institute should have stood for. Nephilims turned into mindless husks and downworlders changed and experimented on. 

Magnus hadn’t stood for it, Alec hadn’t stood for it. The uprising had been inevitable. Magnus, being a prince of hell, took his place as monarch and downworlders marched for war. Many allied, many perished, sacrifices were made.

The High warlock mutters an incantation. The air is soaked out of the passage way. He walks forward as a protective bubble keeps himself safe from suffocation and dizziness. There is mountain dust around him everywhere and his steps sound hollow. 

He could smell the stench of sulfur and ozone, the two scents associated with angelic magic, as he comes closer to the light. The fires around him dissipate. He approaches. There are runes allover the opening. Locking runes, repelling runes, banishing runes. Everything to keep any downworlders at bay. 

Well thought, well planned out, but not enough to make him waver. They didn’t think of covering up the entire wall. Magnus clenches his fist and the magic impulse blasts the tunnel wide open, crumbling the wall to ash and dust. The runes fades. 

Magnus steps into the light, there are bodies, some dead, some just knocked out from his suffocation spell. He closes his eyes as he whispers another incantation. He inhales and his vision goes gray, a wisp light appears, ready to guide him toward Alexander.

It doesn’t take long as he fights some leftover guards in every corridor. He’s swift enough to not let anything end in pain. He’s angry and rage builds up. Usually he’s more in tune with his feelings of revenge, more in control. But the longer he seeks out the right way. The more he doesn’t hold back. the more he approaches where Alexander is been held prisoner. 

Magnus doesn’t need a map, or a history lesson to know where he is going. There are the cells for simple prisoners, the ones for living out your sentence while you await final judgment, then there are the cells for downworlders or especially strong criminals. But Alexander isn’t there. 

Anger keeps on simmering underneath his skin. He knows when he enters the inquisitorial wing. It’s cleaner, more sophisticated, the hypocrisy drips from the ceiling up to the beautiful immaculate tiles bellow. It is smeared with the invisible blood of mostly innocent people who were on the wrong side of the law in the eyes of the clave. 

Magnus comes to an intersection and the wisp vibrates before taking off to the left. All the way to the end of the corridor. There are people in the other rooms ready for ambush. With a snap of fingers he makes sure they stay locked. He walks through and the sudden bang of people and weapons clanking against the now sealed doors. There is cursing and Magnus cannot keep himself from having a side smile adorning his face; The smell of ozone permeates the air but any rune would be useless against his magic. They can struggle all they like, they won’t be getting out. 

He smiles as he waves his hand. The door obliterated against the opposite wall. He steps inside and blocks the first knife that’s out there to get him. He keeps a energy shield up as another shadowhunter tries to slit his throat. He feints a fall and turns on himself as he deviates an attack. There is a pained scream as Magnus deflected the shadowhunter’s attack to stab his colleague. He moves away. There is fire in his hands. 

They burned with an invisible fire before they bleed on the floor. There are screams of anguish and Magnus silences them. 

Alec is smiling, he’s battered and bruised, there is dried blood and the tension in his muscles is taut and strong. Magnus feels his whole heart flutter with the feeling of finally have found back his love. It feels like things will be alright again.

“The sight of you being shackled to a wall will never fail to make me feel weak on my knees, Alexander.” Magnus says as he steps forward. He steps over charred and broken bodies. 

“Liar.” Alec has trouble looking up and his nose looks like it had been repeatedly beaten and badly mended again. He can only see through one eye and with a gentle caress of magic Magnus tries to settle Alec’s pain. There is relief in his face and Magnus feels himself smiling back. 

“Who says I wouldn’t fall to my knees at the sight of you ?” he quips as he scans Alec’s body for more serious or even deadly injuries. 

“You submit to no-one, Magnus Bane.” Alec’s voice sounds raspy through the grin on his lips, he isn’t broken, because Alexander doesn’t break. But the tone is heavy enough to transpire the unfathomable fatigue he is probably feeling. Magnus takes a step closer, he lets his hand ghost over Alec’s shackled hands. 

“That is true, but I’m rarely myself when I’m around you, my love. I would let the whole world burn if it means I get us to be safe.” The next sentence is a whisper. “As I recall, I’ve submitted to you before and will do it again, Alexander, My Alexander…” He lets the name linger between them. And Magnus feels himself lose his breath. 

“Kiss me.” 

Kissing Alec is like the heavens breaking open to finally let peace reign over the turmoil inside of you, it’s unique, ravaging, calming, it’s thunder and rain. It’s the tearing down of the pain and it restores order in your mind, Magnus’ mind. From the movement of lips to careful touches and a slip of tongue, it’s the little things. Even if Magnus avoids to go too hard, too passionate. It is heated and careful. And it reminds them on how much this is all they need, all what they would ever need. Sex isn’t part of it, never part of it. And Magnus’ kiss is soft and strong and welcoming. It grounds them and makes them feel alive in ways no other thing ever would.

Magnus cups Alec’s cheek before breaking the kiss. He’s out of breath, so is Alec. Alec winces before he relaxes when Magnus’ soothing magic overflows most of his face to heal his broken nose; when the last dregs of magic fade Magnus kisses Alec’s forehead. 

“Let me unshackle you.” 

He tries to keep Alec up but Magnus doesn’t expect him to walk, he had been held on his tiptoes for days. The fact that Alec is even remotely on his feet feels like a miracle. Alec buries his face in Magnus’ hair, finding comfort in the smell of sandalwood, reminding him of home, their home; 

“Do you need a Stele ?” Magnus feels Alec mutter a yes and a whine. Magnus conjures a portal as he summons a stele to his pockets.

“Mission accomplished,” his final order resonates as a booming voice over the whole settlement.

Soon they will be home.

Alexander will be safe.

And the next attack could be coordinated.

The end

**Author's Note:**

> If you're over 18 and wanna hang out with other people who love Shadowhunters (I'm there too) come check out the [Hunter's Moon Discord](https://discord.gg/RhZPtsd)


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